A Pernese Cinderella
by D. M. Robb
Summary: Remmi had been a holdless child before ending up as a drudge at Ruatha Hold. When she is selected to be a dragonrider Candidate, she is certain that there has been a mistake.


**Disclaimer****: I do not own Pern or its dragons. Anne McCaffrey does. I am simply playing in her world.**

**A Pernese Cinderella**

"The dragonmen from Ista Weyr are here!" exclaimed Serra, Ruatha Hold's headwoman, hurrying into the kitchens. "Is everything almost ready?"

Remmi barely glanced up from the heavy pot she was scrubbing as excited murmurs from the rest of the kitchen staff echoed about the cavernous room.

"Who do you think will be Searched?"

"I reckon it will be Randel. He seems the most likely of the lot."

"But he is Lord Dalven's eldest son and training to be Ruatha's next Lord Holder. I'm guessing it will be his sister Catha."

"I certainly hope not! She may be beautiful but that girl thinks only of herself. Young Jemma would be the best choice among Lord Dalven's lot but she's only seven."

Remmi bent over her work, struggling to tune out the chatter. She didn't really care who was selected on Search. The dragons and their riders would make their decisions then the Candidates would leave with them. She just wanted the entire day to be over. She had risen before dawn with the other drudges to help prepare a feast for the distinguished guests. Her hands ached from peeling tubers all morning and she hadn't even had time to eat anything. The blending scents of roasting herdbeast, baking bubbly pies, and hot klah reminded her of this.

Although bathing for the drudges was mandatory here at Ruatha Hold and often supervised by Catha, who always looked at Remmi and the others with poorly veiled distain, there hadn't been time for that this morning. Preparations had to be made. Remmi didn't even have a chance to run a brush through her hopelessly unruly hair before she was put to work and it now fell over her shoulders and face in tousled snarls.

Still, she had to admit that she was happier at Ruatha than she had been at Nabol, the first Hold she had worked at and then run away from. Even though no one noticed her except to scold when she made a mistake, she was usually kept warm and decently fed. At Nabol she had been frequently beaten and was often hungry: the drudges there were only allowed the scraps and gristle from the meals they helped prepare. She had made the decision to leave when, as punishment for not setting enough traps for tunnel snakes, the Steward forced her to go without food for three days.

Remmi had gathered up her few belongings, stole some dried meat, bread, and redfruit from the kitchens late at night and made her escape, careful not to be seen by the watch-wher. She didn't have to worry about dangerous, devouring Thread since Pern was in the middle of an Interval. She traveled on foot for days, forcing herself to only eat a few bites every several hours, even though she longed to devour the food all at once, occasionally supplementing it with fresh fruits and berries that sprouted from the foliage. On good days she managed to capture the occasional wherry, which she cooked over low flames created by scrub lit by the fire starting stones that she was able to find. Having grown up holdless, she had learned basic hunting and cooking skills. She also stayed at several small cotholds, performing tasks in exchange for food and a place to sleep. Eventually she arrived at Ruatha Hold where she was instantly put to work in the kitchens with few questions asked.

Tears touched her eyes as she thought about her early Turns, as a child amongst holdless wanderers. Her father, a gruff and distant man, had been one of the few who disliked living within the confines of a Hold and didn't feel it was necessary during the long Interval. Thread wouldn't fall in his lifetime. It had been a difficult life, living in covered caravans and always on the watch for bandits. Still, Remmi ached with longing to see her family again. She clung to memories of falling asleep in her mother Tala's arms when she was a small child, being kissed and sung to. She recalled the woman's lilting voice and sweeping brown hair that had tickled Remmi's skin. She had always felt that her mother would have made an excellent harper.

And then there had been her little brother Renen, whom she would tell stories to, amusing tales that she made up.

"Did people back on Old Earth really fly, just like dragons do here?" he would ask, leaning close to her, his eyes glistening in anticipation.

"That they did," she'd laugh, tousling his curly hair. "There were no dragons on that world so they had to get around somehow."

"I wish we could fly here. I'd like to ride a dragon someday. Remmi, tell your story about the dragon that flew all the way to the Red Star and flamed it completely so that Thread could no longer fall on Pern. But Thread still will fall again sometime, won't it?"

"Yes, Renen. But not for a long, long time."

Remmi often shared her stories with the others on warm summer nights when the families gathered around bonfires. Tears misted her eyes as she remembered the adoring gazes she received from Renen and the other children who always begged for "just one more" when she was finished. There was none of that now.

Remmi struggled not to think about the fevers that swept through their camp in winter two Turns ago, when she was twelve. They claimed most of the people, including her family. Why had I survived? she often thought, fighting the tears and overwhelming guilt. She remained listless for sevendays after she and the few other survivors had been rescued, keeping her head down, refusing to speak or look at anyone. She was placed at Nabol shortly afterward, a Hold that never seemed to have enough drudges.

This is my life now, she thought as she finished the last of the dishes. I must accept it. Mother, Father, and Renen are gone.

Whenever she was distressed, she thought of her mother's voice, allowed it to play through her mind. At Gathers the harpers' music always moved her to tears and filled her with a longing she couldn't explain. A longing for more…for what? She often wished to sing along with them or accompany them on their instruments but, unlike Tala, her own voice was flat, and she had never learned to play an instrument.

Caught up in her thoughts, Remmi bent to gather up a sack of flour to carry back to the storeroom. She didn't notice that one end was slightly open and fine white powder spilled everywhere.

"Pay attention to what you are doing, you half-witted dimglow!" yelled a cook, striking her left cheek with his thick hand. Pain shot through Remmi and hot tears filled her eyes. "Rina just scrubbed that floor. Now clean all that up."

"I-I'm sorry," she choked but the man had already turned his back to her, focused on chastising someone else.

Remmi's cheek throbbed with a burning ache as she rescrubbed the floor and carried the heavy sack of flour to the storeroom. She next grabbed a broom and headed for the terrace, eager to get out of the warm kitchen, away from the enticing smells. She was also determined to avoid that cook for the next few days if that was at all possible…except to perhaps add too much extra seasoning to a stew he was preparing when he wasn't looking. That would serve him right!

She blinked at the sun's sudden brightness as she stepped outside. It was mid spring and the fragrance of flowers and fruit trees clung to the air. The scents mixed with something else, something unfamiliar and somewhat spicy.

A deep crooning drew her attention to the nearby summit where two dragons were perched, a blue and a brown. She dropped the broom—it fell to the flagstones with a clatter—as she gazed up at those magnificent beasts. She had never seen a dragon this close before, only at a distance, flying overhead. They were even bigger than she had imagined. The sunlight glistened against their smooth hides and folded wings. They seemed to acknowledge her with swirling rainbow eyes.

She stared back at them, breathless. The sight of them and the thrumming sound of their crooning filled her with that unexplainable desire…a feeling that continued to increase. Were they trying to speak to her? She could feel them touching her mind as if studying it.

The sound of male voices coming from nearby distracted her.

"Her?" one of them was saying. "Impossible! She's only a kitchen drudge."

Two men, the dragons' riders she was sure by their wherhide riding suits, were appraising her from a short distance away. Remmi suddenly felt self-conscious and ran a hand through her hopelessly tangled hair. Her tunic was threadbare, smattered with stains and a dusting of flour. Her cheek still throbbed from the blow she had received and she was certain that her face was smeared with grime. Not since coming to live in the Holds did she ever receive more than a passing glance from anyone of rank. And now these two men, these _dragonriders,_ were staring at her as if she were a wherry and they hungry felines. Tension knotted her stomach. Had she done anything to offend them? Her mind raced. How could she have? She had been working in the kitchens all morning and hadn't even seen them until now. The one who had spoken was shorter and slender, with an almost pretty face. The other was tall and stocky.

"That doesn't matter, C'enen," said the other. "It's up to the dragons to decide, not us. My Sereth sees something in her that most humans can't. It's not our place to judge."

"You're right," said C'enen. "But we must inform Lord Dalven that we have selected a Candidate from his Hold."

A Candidate? Her? Remmi's mind spun. How was that possible? Drudges were _never _considered for Candidates.

"Well girl, it looks like you have been Searched," said the stocky dragonrider, turning toward her and grinning. He had a friendly, ruddy face. He held out a hand to her. She stumbled toward him on numb legs and took it. Her hand, tiny in his, was callused and caked with dirt. "I am G'ren, rider of brown Sereth and this is C'enen, blue Prilith's rider." The other man nodded to her. "What is your name?"

"R-Remmi," she gasped, her throat suddenly dry.

"What happened to your cheek, Remmi?" asked G'ren, peering closer to inspect it as C'enen raced away to get the Lord Holder.

She swallowed and looked away. She thought she had caught a fleeting look of pity in his eyes. She had seen that look before, usually on the faces of the Hold's youngsters and fosterlings, whenever they watched her go about her duties. They had lessons to attend to and would later be placed in apprenticeships while she would always be just a drudge. This frustrated and angered her. Indifference she could tolerate: she was used to that from most adults. But pity she couldn't.

"It's really nothing, sir."

"I'm a trained healer," said G'ren, his voice gentle. "It doesn't look like anything serious and should heal in a few days. Still, you could apply a bit of numbweed to it if it is sore."

"So, you've found a Candidate," said Lord Dalven, striding up to them, followed closely by C'enen. He was a short man, large boned with a protruding belly. "Just one? Who is it?"

"Remmi," said G'ren, gently pulling her forward. She tensed as Lord Dalven's pale blue eyes glanced over her. He tossed his head back and laughed, a deep, booming sound.

"Her? She looks like one of my drudges. I didn't know that dragonriders played practical jokes on people. Who is it really? Please say Catha. My daughter talked about the upcoming Search to my Hold for several sevendays. I think she'd make an excellent Weyrwoman."

He doesn't believe them, thought Remmi, although she wasn't surprised. Still, the dragons made low growling sounds and their eyes flickered with shades of orange and yellow.

"My lord, the dragons have selected Remmi," said C'enen. "I questioned it myself but my Prilith insists that she is the one. The dragons are never wrong in these matters."

The merriment on Lord Dalven's face faded, replaced by a burning red flush. "This is impossible! How can you choose this—this halfwit over my children?"

"She's not a halfwit," G'ren said, his voice growing harsh. "The dragons have touched her mind and found her worthy of the Search. You must accept it."

Lord Dalven breathed deeply as he glared at Remmi. She stiffened and felt an urge to cringe. He was Ruatha's Lord, in charge of this entire Hold. If he said she couldn't go, would the dragonriders have to respect his wishes?

_No,_ said a voice. It sounded like G'ren's but spoke within her mind. She looked up. Sereth was staring directly at her, his eyes whirling with gentle shades of blue and green. _Our decision is final. You are the one we selected._

"Fine," Lord Dalven spat. Remmi could tell he was struggling to contain his anger in front of the dragonmen. "Take her. I can always find another drudge. They are easily replaceable."

He turned on his heel. C'enen followed, trying to offer comfort.

Remmi, now alone with G'ren, nervously twisted the hem of her tunic.

"Can you read, Remmi?" he asked, turning to her.

She looked down and flushed. She was grateful for the wisps of dirty hair veiling her cheeks. "No, sir. I never learned."

"Well, that should change. Sereth and Prilith have seen something in you that others have obviously overlooked. Even if you don't Impress, I will suggest that you stay on in the Weyr and attend lessons with the weyrbred children." Remmi felt a leap in her chest. She blinked, certain she was dreaming. "How old are you, Remmi?"

"Fourteen." Her voice sounded dry, whispery.

"You are at an age where you should have already been apprenticed to a Craft or Hall if any innate skills you have had been discovered. What skills do you possess?"

Remmi swallowed and studied the ground. The flagstones were streaked with jagged cracks. Her face burned with humiliation. "Not many. For twelve Turns, I traveled with my family and others, a group of holdless. I did a little cooking and gathering of herbs, nothing special, although I'd often tell stories around the campfires at night."

This seemed to spark G'ren's interest. "You told stories?"

"Yes, sir. I enjoyed doing that, making things up although now I just keep them in my head because I doubt anyone in the Hold would want to hear them."

"Can you sing? Have you ever played a musical instrument?"

Again, Remmi shook her head. "I'm not much of a singer, although my mother had had a beautiful voice." Sudden tears sprang into her eyes as she said that. "And I've never touched a musical instrument."

That now almost familiar feeling of the dragon minds joining with hers filled Remmi. G'ren stood still for several moments, his face fixed in concentration. Remmi remained still, breathless, not wanting to interrupt that link between a dragon and his rider as they silently spoke.

G'ren then turned back to her. He placed a large hand on her shoulder and the other under her chin, tilting her face up. His eyes were green, swirled with gold and brown. "You do realize, once you come to the Weyr, you will be learning the basics with children much younger than yourself?" She swallowed and nodded. "It is important that you learn those. If you do Impress, you will have those lessons in addition to caring for your dragon, weyrling duties and training. Due to your late start, you will have to work harder than the others. Is that understood?"

"Yes. I am used to working hard, sir." Remmi felt as if she were going to burst out of her skin.

"That's good because much will be expected of you from now on. If you fail to Impress," Remmi stiffened, feeling a sudden dread knot her stomach, "I will suggest that you be sent to Harper Hall for training, if you so desire. That is, after you have been properly instructed in the basics. Sereth has informed me that you are an excellent storyteller and have a highly creative mind. You would be a great asset as a harper."

"A harper?" A stray tear tickled the side of Remmi's nose. Embarrassed, she brushed it away with her ragged sleeve. No one in the Holds had ever believed in her before.

G'ren smiled and nodded. "Yes. You should—"

He was interrupted by the urgent crooning of the dragons, a loud thrumming that echoed against the Hold's high walls.

"Shards!" G'ren kicked at the ground. Sereth flew down from the heights and alighted gracefully beyond the terrace. "The Hatching can't be starting this early but Sereth informs me it has. It is days sooner than expected, which is unfortunate for you. I was hoping that you would have time to prepare for this event. Come on, Remmi. We must get you to Ista Weyr. Have you ever ridden dragonback before?"

"No," said Remmi feeling a jumble of emotions: fear, excitement, joy. And a fleeting melancholy as she remembered how badly Renen had wanted to fly on a dragon. He'd never had that chance…

G'ren hoisted her onto Sereth's foreleg, helped her crawl up the side and secured her with the riding straps before doing the same to himself. Her heart felt as if it had lodged in her throat as Sereth took to the air, his enormous wings spanning out on either side. Ruatha Hold stretched out beneath her. She could see C'enen scrambling to climb aboard Prilith. Her hair whipped across her face. After momentary fright, she found that she enjoyed the experience of flying. The wind was cool on her face.

"In a few minutes we will be going _between,_" G'ren said. "It is frightening at first for everyone but don't worry. Sereth and I know our coordinates. You will feel nothing for three seconds and then we will arrive at Ista."

Remmi found that all she could do was nod. Moments later she was engulfed by a chill nothingness. She couldn't see or feel anything, not even Sereth beneath her or G'ren, whom she was clinging to. But after a few scant seconds, she was blinking in the warm springtime sunlight as they emerged over Ista Weyr. Sharp, jagged peaks formed a half circle around the vast bowl and the rich blue sea rippled beyond.

Sereth landed in the bowl and G'ren helped her to dismount, then hurried her to the Weyr's entrance. As they raced down the glow-lit passageway, the urgent thrumming of multiple dragons throbbed around them.

"Good luck to you, Remmi," G'ren whispered as he handed her over to Ista's headwoman Felysa.

"You are a mess," the woman said as she stripped off Remmi's tunic and threw a white Candidate robe over her head. Remmi was still struggling to pull an arm through the sleeve when Felysa grabbed her other hand and began dragging her through another passageway. "You could use a dip in the bathing pool and a good hair brushing but there isn't time for that." The eerie dragonsong crooned through the corridors as Remmi stumbled beside Felysa. The robe was too long and she continued to trip on its trailing hem. "You weren't given any time to prepare for this so listen carefully if you want to avoid being injured or killed." Remmi's stomach lurched. "Don't remain standing in front of a dragonet if it doesn't look interested in you. Believe me, it won't care that you are in the way and will trample right over you to get to the Candidate that it wants. I've seen enough nasty injuries from Candidates that refused to heed this advice. I hope you won't be one of them."

"No, ma'am," Remmi said swallowing.

"Join that group of girls over there near the queen egg," Felysa said as she gently pushed Remmi onto the Hatching Ground. Hot sands scorched the bottoms of her bare feet, causing her to hop from foot to foot as she awkwardly made her way toward the other white robed Candidates. She feared she might be laughed at but no one seemed to notice. The other Candidates and watching crowd in the stands were waiting breathlessly for the first egg to crack.

A dazed feeling overcame her. Was she dreaming? This morning she had been peeling tubers in Ruatha's kitchens and now she was making her way across the Hatching Grounds toward a scattering of rocking eggs. The great golden queen, Lilth, was curled on the egg mound, protecting the queen egg, her eyes whirling red. The light-headed feeling increased as Remmi realized that she hadn't had anything to eat all day. But now she could barely even think of food.

She joined the three other female Candidates who were standing a respectful distance from the queen egg, their eyes locked longingly on it. Other eggs sprinkled the sand and young men and boys stood amongst them, some nervously fidgeting, others stiff and stoic. Remmi had never seen a Hatching before but had heard them described by others who had. A blur of thoughts tumbled through her mind. The hot sands still burning her feet reminded her that she wasn't dreaming. She was really here.

She glanced at the other Candidates and immediately felt self-conscious. All were clean and neatly groomed. They had the appearance of having been well cared for. She tugged at her matted hair in nervous frustration, wishing that she'd at least had time to brush it and to wash her face. She kept a part of her hair over her left cheek, hiding the bruise that she was certain people in the highest stands could see. Even her robe didn't fit properly, too long and loose, as if it had been made for a taller, heavier person. She had to continue hiking it up above her ankles to keep from tripping.

The sounds of the dragon humming gradually increased in volume as the eggs twitched and jerked, becoming more restless. Nerves jiggled in Remmi's empty stomach.

A loud popping shifted her attention to a mottled egg that was jagged with cracks. A collective gasp rose from the crowd as a shiny bronze dragonet spilled out. It tumbled onto the sand, its wet wings unfurling slightly, its eyes whirling orange as it nosed about, shambling through the group of boys. A tall youth with black hair locked eyes with the dragonet. "His name is Bareth!" he exclaimed in a trembling voice as tears trickled down his cheeks.

Tears touched Remmi's own eyes as she watched the pair leave the Hatching Ground, bonded partners for life. The stories she had heard about Hatchings, and even made up herself, couldn't compare to actually witnessing one. Chaos ensued as other eggs hatched and boys stumbled here and there, hoping to be noticed by a dragonet, yet fearful of being injured by the clumsy hatchlings. Several more Impressions were made.

The golden shell of the queen egg finally broke, splitting down the middle with a loud cracking sound. The small dragonet awkwardly emerged, her slick hide glistening a deep gold. Remmi was jostled as the other girls pushed forward, hoping to catch the glowing, whirling eyes of the little queen.

Remmi forced her shoulders back and struggled to stand as straight as she could. You are just as good as any of these girls, she tried to assure herself. The dragons on Search saw it. I have every right to be here as they do. Still, inwardly she quavered.

The small queen stumbled toward her. Her heart leaped. Could it be possible…?

She was knocked aside by the eager girls and crumpled onto the hot sands: they seared her hands and her knees through the cottony robe. Despair spilled through her as she heard a high-pitched female voice exclaim, "Her name is Kayith!"

Remmi glanced back. A chubby girl with dark, tightly curled hair and large eyes was staring lovingly at the little golden dragon.

Remmi remained huddled on the sands, her tangled hair slipping over her watering eyes. She didn't know whether she should laugh or cry. All the eggs had hatched and a few remaining dragonets, mostly blues and greens, were stumbling about as a mass of yet un-Impressed candidates jostled for their attention.

What was I thinking, that _I _of all people, could Impress? Remmi thought, too weak with disappointment to get up. I'm only a scullery drudge and, before that, a holdless urchin. She began to fear that this had all been a cruel joke. Perhaps G'ren and C'enen had merely meant to humiliate her. Wouldn't Lord Dalven be pleased!

But still, a dragon had _spoken _to her. And dragons would _never _intentionally choose an unlikely Candidate just to humiliate, would they?

Remmi closed her eyes to block out her surroundings. She could hear the shuffling of feet on the sands, the roar of voices as she remembered what G'ren had told her just after she had been selected on Search. He was going to suggest that she remain at the Weyr to attend lessons and perhaps even eventually become a student at Harper Hall, learn to hone her storytelling skills. A renewed hope began to stir within her. No more would she have to serve as a drudge at Holds and cotholds, running away in between! She finally had a future. She would become a harper. Perhaps being a dragonrider had been too lofty an aspiration, too big a leap. But, for a moment at least, she had believed it possible…

Someone roughly pushed against her shoulder. "Leave me alone," she snapped, not bothering to look up to see who it was. It was probably just another Candidate, rushing to get to a dragonet and not caring who was in his way.

_Why? _cried a distressed voice in her mind. It was rich and musical, filling her with velvety warmth, reminding her of Tala's singing from so long ago. _Don't you want me?_

Remmi pushed back her hair and found herself staring up into the whirling red and yellow eyes of a small dragonet. It was a rich green that gleamed with faint golden shimmers and its delicate wings looked as if they had been carved from the purest glass. She was the most beautiful dragon Remmi had ever seen, certainly the most beautiful on all of Pern! An intense euphoria filled her, warming her from the inside. The tears that had been hovering in her eyes spilled over, tickling her cheeks. "I'm so sorry. Of course I do! I love you!" She drew the dragonet into her arms. The little creature's hide felt softer than the finest cloth.

_My name is Faylith,_ she said, her vast eyes calming to a gentle blue. _I'm hungry._

Remmi was barely aware of the surprised murmurs that swept through the enormous cavern, the baleful stares of the Candidates still remaining on the sands, those who did not Impress. All she could focus on was Faylith. She could feel the dragon's intense hunger, which was even stronger than her own.

"Then I shall get you something to eat." Remmi pulled herself to her feet and wrapped an arm around Faylith to steady her. Together they started across the Hatching Grounds toward the crowd of elated newly Impressed who were eagerly feeding their voracious dragons.

I now finally have a true home, Remmi thought, feeling still more tears spill with a joy she couldn't contain. And a companion who will never leave me.

_You are right, _came Faylith's lilting, inner voice. _I will never leave you._


End file.
